


extremely loud and incredibly close

by anirondack



Series: 10 Kinks Challenge [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Also Some Skating Stuff, Anal Sex, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Hotel Sex, Loud Sex, M/M, Possessive Katsuki Yuuri, Top Katsuki Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-13 17:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10518534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anirondack/pseuds/anirondack
Summary: They walk back to the hotel once Yuuri has changed back into regular clothes and does his second round of interviews. He’s still quiet, but his eyes are burning instead of sparkling. He still holds Victor’s hand, but he walks half a step ahead of him, and Victor lets himself be led. There are a couple other skaters around - some stayed to shower, but most have been gone for half an hour or more - but Yuuri pays no attention to them. His gaze is on the building they’re staying at, and he barely says a word until they get there and then, when the elevator doors close, he hits the button for their floor and then shoves Victor against the wall.“Oh,” Victor says.The aftermath of Yuuri's Four Continents skate.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the 10 Kinks Challenge. Kinks are "loud sex" and "hotel sex".
> 
> we're getting close to the end of the 10 kinks challenge, but I have 3 slots left and I'm not sure what to fill them with. so if you have a kink or several that you'd really like to see filled, then drop me a comment and let me know! i'll probably write it!
> 
> i took this title from evgenia medvedeva's free skate lmao
> 
> this is up a little bit late, sorry, we were watching worlds this morning.

Yuuri doesn’t really take too long to get used to winning.

He’d floated on the high of silver for a few days. It wasn’t gold, but it was leagues ahead of where he had been and he has a new world record and a certificate to go with it.

The certificate comes from Victor, who made it on his laptop and had to wait to get back to Japan to use the Katsuki family’s printer before he could give it to Yuuri, but it’s a certificate nonetheless. Yuuri tapes it to his wall where an old poster of Victor used to be, because it makes him laugh when he sees it.

Despite having to split up for Nationals, where Victor borrows a program from his past and ups the jump difficulty and Minako agrees to be Yuuri’s stand-in coach for the week, they both do well. Victor cedes gold to Yuri, who is riding the kind of high that involves getting an inch taller in the span of a few weeks but still fiercely brilliant. Yuuri takes gold in Japanese nationals, and no one really gets that close to him, and on Skype that night, he calls Victor from his hotel room while Victor is in the locker room of the ice rink and kisses his medal for him.

“Yuuri, not fair,” Victor whines as he slips off his track jacket. “I want to kiss that.”

“What, like this?” Yuuri presses his lips to the edge of the medal, and then they curve into a smile.

“Yuuuuuri.”

“I’ll kiss yours when I make it back to Russia. You know I don’t mind kissing silver things.”

Victor laughs, and then Yuuri does too. He slips his medal out of frame, presumably into his pocket.

“Do well in your exhibition skate,” he says.

“How can I? You’re not here with me,” Victor replies.

“Just skate for me. You know I’ll be watching.” Yuuri’s eyes sparkle behind his glasses. Victor’s heart flutters a little.

Victor does well in his exhibition skate. Yuuri watches on a livestream in his hotel room on his phone. Victor kisses his ring when he gets on the ice and Yuuri mirrors him on his own.

Victor returns to Japan after Nationals and then they move  to Saint Petersburg after New Years. Yuuri spends a while getting used to living in Russia and Victor spends a while training intensely, trying to get some kind of form for Europeans. Yuri Plisetsky grows another inch and his bones hurt all the time, so he only manages a bronze; Victor takes gold by the skin of his teeth, narrowly beating out Chris, who takes silver again. Yuuri meets Victor outside the kiss and cry, wearing Victor’s badge that he somehow persuaded Yakov into giving him and hugs Victor in front of all the cameras and holds his blade guards for him when Victor climbs the podium again.

After Europeans is Four Continents and Victor turns into a monster. Four Continents is the only competition that Yuuri will be in that Victor can’t, and Victor uses all his extra training energy to push him extra hard. Yuuri is exhausted more often than not, but his quad flip is neat and his combinations are clean and his short program is edging toward his free in how high he can drive his G.O.E.s.

They fly to Taiwan in the middle of February and Yuuri finds Phichit and Guang-Hong and Leo and they go out for food the first night everyone is there. Victor comes too, and the others tease him good naturedly about being European. Cao Bin and Otabek are somewhere in the hotel, and everyone is staunchly ignoring JJ. Yuuri quietly regrets his past low finishes for not earning Japan more spots - he doesn’t need the extra competition, but it would be kind of nice to have someone else from Japan here.

Yuuri has a relatively high ranking from his Grand Prix final silver, so he skates later in the order. He gets nerves before he skates, of course he does. He’s Yuuri Katsuki and his nerves have nerves. Victor squeezes his forearms before he skates and kisses Yuuri’s ring and then his own, and Yuuri touches his lips to warm metal before he takes his position for Eros. And it’s good. It’s very good. He remembers the anxiety from Barcelona, how all he could think of was numbers the way Seung-Gil usually does, and he gives that away. Victor leans against the barrier and watches him and Yuuri dances for him and lets his body flow. He has a little wobble on one jump, his quad flip, but he doesn’t touch down and he keeps on going after. It’s not enough to beat Yuri’s world record, of course, but no one is going to be touching that for a while and Yuuri doesn’t mind. Victor throws his arms around him at the barrier gate as Yuuri skates up holding a giant stuffed sushi, and again at the kiss and cry, and Yuuri scores over a hundred and ten points and the crowd screams for him.

JJ has a higher overall ranking than Yuuri and skates after. His program is toned down very slightly after the mess of the Grand Prix final, so he manages to match Yuuri but not beat him. Yuuri clings to first place by a fraction of a point, and he manages to speak smoothly for the cameras that ask him questions while Victor’s hand rests on his shoulder.

“Could you do a quad flip in a combination?” Victor asks that night as they’re lying in bed, freshly showered.

Yuuri is nodding off already, and doesn't even open his eyes. “Hm?”

“Could you do your quad flip in a combination?” Victor repeats. “Instead of your Salchow.”

“That sounds hard,” Yuuri mumbles sleepily.

“So is finishing first after the short program at the Four Continents,” Victor points out. “And you’ve done that very nicely.”

“Thanks.” Yuuri turns and nestles his face against Victor’s neck.

“Something to consider for Worlds, perhaps, if we can get some good practice time in with it,” Victor says. “Otherwise we can think about it during the off season.” He reaches up and rubs Yuuri’s shoulders gently. Yuuri rumbles happily in his chest and kisses Victor’s throat, then slips off to sleep.

There’s a day between the short program and the free skate, and Yuuri is quiet. His eyes are sparkling again. He doesn’t tell Victor what he’s looking for or what he’s thinking about, but Victor doesn’t need to know. He just sticks close to Yuuri when they go out to eat and redirects conversation around Yuuri when they run into other skaters and Yuuri gives them all a distracted smile and not much more. Victor curls his hand in the crook of Yuuri’s elbow and makes sure he’s fed and showered and gets to sleep at a reasonable time, and that’s that.

Yuuri has to skate last again in the free skate, which always makes him a little nervous. Victor watches him as he warms up, jogging up and down in the back hallways and squeezing Yuuri’s arm or hand when he passes by. Yuuri’s fingers brush along Victor’s wrist, and then he jogs away again to stretch against a wall.

Yuuri is in the last warm-up group, so he spends most of the time with his earplugs in, stretching on his mat or drinking water or mumbling to himself. While the second to last group goes, Victor kneels down in front of him and ties his skates for him, and Yuuri touches the top of Victor’s head with his palm, then helps him back up. His eyes are still sparkling.

“Are you ready, my Yuuri?” Victor asks.

Yuuri inclines his head in a single nod, and then they head out to barrier gates. Yuuri pulls off his guards and hands them to Victor, then follows the other top five out onto the ice. Victor leans against the barrier, elbows digging into the plexiglass, as he watches Yuuri drift for a moment, and then throw himself into a quad Salchow and land neatly a yard or two away. A smattering of applause rains down from the audience. Yuuri doesn’t smile; he just looks determined.

After six minutes, everyone files off and one of the Americans, de la Iglesia, steps back on. Victor watches as he drape Yuuri’s jacket around his shoulders. Yuuri tugs it on, and then they announce Leo’s name and country and music and the last group begins.

It goes like that for four more free programs. Yuuri sits nearly motionless as he watches, earplugs still in, expression stony. But his eyes are still shining with the reflection of the ice as JJ finishes with a not-quite personal best and skates off with his fingers hooked into Js and it’s Yuuri’s turn to step up.

“Remember to feel the music,” Victor says as he clasps Yuuri’s hand. “You have the program inside you, I’ve seen it. Let it all out for me.”

Yuuri nods staunchly. Victor brings Yuuri’s hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles, then squeezes his fingers and lets him go. Yuuri looks at him, a little oddly, and then he turns and skates out into the middle of the rink, arms outstretched, to the tune of a stadium full of applause and _the final skater, from Japan, Yuuri Katsuki._

Victor already can’t look away. He wouldn’t dare.

The piano comes in, and it always makes Victor’s heart swell when he hears those first notes in competition. Yuuri hesitates for the tiniest fraction of a second, and then his shoulders set in resolve and he turns and he skates. His form is beautiful, but there’s something a little off about his skating that Victor can’t place until he goes into a triple Lutz and then a triple toe loop instead of his usual quad-double combination. _Yuuri_ , Victor thinks, gripping the edge of the barrier wall. _What are you doing?_

Piano rises and swells and falls and rises again with violin. Yuuri’s skating is edge perfect, his jumps are nearly flawless. Nothing else in the program changes as he skates, and Victor wonders where his fourth quad will be, if Yuuri cut it from the very beginning of the program. They hadn’t discussed reducing the number of quads - Victor has long since stopped suggesting that Yuuri simplify his program and rely on his PCS.

And then Yuuri leaves his triple Salchow and makes eye contact with Victor across the rink. He can’t know that Victor is meeting his eyes, but it feels like somehow he does, and Yuuri swings around the rink to meet him and Victor knows that lead-in intimately.

Yuuri jams his toe pick into the ice and throws himself into the air. Victor’s brain counts the fractions of a second in each of four rotations and he can’t remember how to breathe as Yuuri hits the ground on his other foot and then carries on into the double toe loop. His free leg is positioned kind of oddly, like maybe it was a popped triple, but it couldn’t possibly matter at all. Victor’s hands are covering the lower half of his face as Yuuri launches into his step sequence, and when he breathes, it’s uneven.

Yuuri looks at him again, right before the second quad flip, and what a thing to say, a _second_ quad flip, but Victor looks back and Yuuri pushes up and gets almost four rotations this time too. It’s the tiniest bit under-rotated, but probably not enough for a point deduction, and Victor’s chest still feels compressed from the combination. He’d only pitched the idea two nights ago, and suddenly, Yuuri’s quiet contemplation for the whole of yesterday makes sense.

Piano and violin twine together and then fade out as Yuuri reaches toward Victor and there’s a beat of silence and then the crowd erupts. Yuuri stumbles out of his end stance and punches the air and screams something and then sinks to his knees, panting so hard it looks like he might be hyperventilating. Victor rushes to the gate as showers of roses and stuffed poodles rain down on the ice, and it takes Yuuri a long time to get up, but when he is, he’s smiling, exhaustion evident but so bright it hurts to look at him.

He gathers up a couple of tiny Makkachins that land near him, and then he skates over to Victor. There’s elation in his expression, and something else too, that determination that Victor had seen right before he skated onto the rink. He smiles at Victor and it sends a chill down Victor’s spine.

“Yuuri,” he says.

“Victor,” Yuuri replies.

Victor lunges out, one foot on the ice, and throws his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders.

“That was incredible,” he murmurs into Yuuri’s shoulder. “I can’t believe your last combination.”

Yuuri grins against the point of Victor’s jaw. “I can’t believe you didn’t expect it.”

“I thought you were half asleep when I mentioned it.”

“I knew it was the right thing to do.” The stands are still cheering, so Yuuri pulls back and hands Victor his stuffed Makkachins and waves as Victor gets his blade guards.

Yuuri isn’t even nervous in the kiss and cry as they sit with Victor’s arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. He looks steely, pleased with himself in a way that Yuuri doesn’t usually look. It’s been a while since Yuuri raced back to the barrier asking if he did well, but he still likes it when Victor tells him that he did. Now, it seems like Yuuri knows exactly what he’s done and Victor is the one who can barely breathe as they wait for the scores.

He gets just under two hundred and twenty three points for the free skate and breaks his own record by over a point. Yuuri stands up and throws his arms in the air and Victor nearly tackles him wrapping his arms around his waist. For all that the others tried to catch him, Yuuri clings to his record and he clings to the top and he grabs gold from Canadian hands and steals it for himself.

Yuuri seems highly strung as he tolerates interviews with Victor’s hand on his shoulder. People try to interview Victor too, but he politely declines and turns them back toward skaters who actually competed. Yuuri has many pictures taken of him as they set up the podium towers, and then he skates back out and climbs to the top of it and accepts his bouquet and his medals and looks like he’s on fire.

They walk back to the hotel once Yuuri has changed back into regular clothes and does his second round of interviews. He’s still quiet, but his eyes are burning instead of sparkling. He still holds Victor’s hand, but he walks half a step ahead of him, and Victor lets himself be led. There are a couple other skaters around - some stayed to shower, but most have been gone for half an hour or more - but Yuuri pays no attention to them. His gaze is on the building they’re staying at, and he barely says a word until they get there and then, when the elevator doors close, he hits the button for their floor and then shoves Victor against the wall.

“Oh,” Victor says.

Yuuri slams their mouths together with absolutely none of the finesse that he had shown on the ice. Their teeth click together painfully and Victor’s hands fly up to Yuuri’s sides, gripping at his track jacket. Yuuri’s fingers dig hard into Victor’s shoulders, nails pressing in, and Victors swears he can feel the sting through the wool.

Yuuri doesn’t stop kissing him until the elevator chimes for their floor, and then he has Victor by the elbow as he practically drags him out and down the hall. Victor has the hotel key, and he fumbles a little as he gets it out of his wallet. Yuuri watches expectantly as he slots it into the reader, and then shoves Victor inside and slams the door behind them.

“Yuuri,” Victor manages, and then Yuuri is pushing him into another wall and kissing him again. It’s a very all consuming kiss and Victor instantly forgets about everything that’s not Yuuri’s quad flip combination and Yuuri’s lips on his own and Yuuri’s gold medal pressing against his chest through several layers of clothing.

“You’re incredible,” he mumbles against Yuuri’s lips.

Yuuri bites him.

Victor’s eyes widen, startled, but Yuuri just sucks at his lower lip to soothe the light pain and then he pushes at Victor, as if he could get any more pressed against the wall.

“What did you think,” Yuuri says. It’s a question, but it’s not. It’s an order.

“Absolutely brilliant,” Victor says without hesitation. “You were amazing.”

Yuuri grins. It’s wolfish. It’s wanting. It’s the kind of smile that Victor could easily break himself on.

Yuuri manhandles him to the bed, which involves a lot of pushing and pulling and messy kisses before he shoves Victor, suit and all, onto the bed. Victor bounces a little, and Yuuri is on top of him, undoing shirt buttons haphazardly. 

“Go on.”

“Your form was beautiful,” Victor says obediently. Yuuri all but rips his shirt open and Victor sits up a little so Yuuri can yank the shirt and the jacket off in one go. Then he shuffles back and starts working at Victor’s belt. “Yuuri.”

“Keep talking,” Yuuri says.

Victor shivers.

“Your second quad flip was a little shaky–”

“You never did two quad flips,” Yuuri replies. He sounds sharp. He tugs at Victor’s waistband until Victor lifts his hips up. Yuuri pulls back to stand at the end of the bed and yanks at Victor’s shoes until they come off, and then the pants come with them, and then the underwear after that. Victor stares up at Yuuri and then Yuuri climbs back on top of him, hands on either side of Victor’s head. “No one ever did two quad flips. I’m the only one.”

“I know,” Victor says softly.

Yuuri looks down at him. His eyes are steel. He is unbending. He is filled with adrenaline fueled fire and gold and the knowledge that, for one moment, he is the best in the world.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Yuuri says. “And when I get out, please be ready.”

He doesn’t give Victor a chance to respond. He pushes himself up and off the bed and turns, stripping his track jacket and shirt off. He doesn’t even bother to close the door, and Victor stares as Yuuri kicks off his pants and then disappears from view. He stares until the water turns on and he scrambles up to go digging through their luggage for supplies, which are of course at the bottom of everything.

He drops onto his knees and his chest on the bed and reaches behind himself with lube slicked fingers. He closes his eyes as he presses into himself and he listens to the sound of water changing courses as Yuuri quickly showers all his sweat away. The ghost of the feeling of Yuuri’s hands pressing against his chest and shoving back is fresh on Victor’s skin. He groans softly and rocks forward a little and tries to relax because it doesn’t really seem like Yuuri is going to give him much of a break.

Yuuri barely even gives Victor time to get ready. Victor is three fingers deep in himself when the water shuts off, and a moment later, Yuuri emerges, damp and flushed and still on fire. He stops in the doorway to the bathroom and looks at Victor, who pauses, ass in the air and fingers buried inside himself, and looks back.

“Yuuri,” Victor says again, plaintively.

Yuuri’s eyes dart around, from Victor’s face to the bottle of lube next to him to the strip of condoms by the foot of the bed to Victor’s ass and back to Victor’s face.

He grins.

Yuuri is across the room in a flash, reaching for one of the condoms and tearing it open with his teeth. Victor is still, trying to watch, as Yuuri - half hard already from the shower and the energy in his body - jerks himself off and then rolls the condom on. He holds out his hand wordlessly and Victor withdraws his fingers to hand the lube to him. Yuuri turns it upside down and drenches himself, and then he gives Victor very little warning before he kneels up on the bed and starts pushing in.

“Yuuri!” Victor chokes, and then buries his face in the foreign hotel bed sheets. “Yuuri, oh–”

“No,” Yuuri says. “I want to hear you.”

He reaches forward and hooks his fingers around Victor’s shoulder and tugs until Victor’s face is exposed. Victor’s mouth is open, gasping as he feels his body stretch to accommodate Yuuri, and nothing but a high moan comes out.

“Louder,” Yuuri demands. He’s not even fully inside Victor yet - despite the fire and the stone in his face, he’s being careful - but it’s already so overwhelming because Yuuri is not like this. Yuuri likes to fuck face to face, likes to stretch Victor out for ages, long past how much Victor needs it, because he likes the squirming and the closeness, likes to kiss through the first breach into Victor’s body. Yuuri doesn’t dig his nails into the back of Victor’s neck and thrust into him shallowly and demand Victor’s body to sing for him.

But then again, Yuuri didn’t use to win international gold medals either.

Yuuri buries himself inside Victor and drapes himself over Victor’s back, arms hooked around his shoulders, and Victor shudders out a moan. He rubs his cheek against the bed and then glances back at Yuuri out of the corner of his eye. Yuuri looks back, and then he pushes his hips forward and drives Victor up with him. He pulls out with a soft, wet sound from extra lube, and then he slams back in and Victor yelps.

“Louder,” Yuuri repeats. “Let me _hear_ you.”

Yuuri’s knees press into the insides of Victor’s as he draws out slowly, maybe halfway, and then rocks back and draws out and rocks back and draws out and it feels so good. He’s surrounded by Yuuri from all directions and inside out and Yuuri is moving, bending Victor however he wants.

“Talk to me,” Yuuri says. “Tell me.”

“It was nearly perfect,” Victor gasps. Yuuri’s cock slides partway out of him, and then thrusts back in. It knocks Victor forward a little, and it makes it hard not to push his face into the hotel bed again. “You were nearly perfect. You are nearly perfect.”

“Nearly,” Yuuri repeats. There’s a note of amusement in his voice.

“No gold in Worlds. And not married to me yet.”

Yuuri laughs. “Give me a minute.”

“I was so– ah– I was so surprised,” Victor says. Yuuri nuzzles his shoulder, then bites it and starts sucking. “ _Ah_ – I saw you changed your first combination and didn’t know– _oh_ –”

Yuuri sinks his teeth into Victor’s shoulder. “You didn’t know I heard you,” he says, muffled against Victor’s skin. “I always hear you.”

Victor’s not sure that’s true, but it still makes him shudder all over.

“You still surprise me, Yuuri,” he murmurs. “That’s all I ever want. You were phenomenal.”

Yuuri breathes out softly against Victor’s shoulder and stills for a moment.

“Really?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

Victor feels Yuuri’s lips curve upward again.

“Then tell everyone.”

His hips snap forward again, driving deep and steady into Victor. Victor cries out in surprise and then buries his face in the hotel’s bed again.

“No,” Yuuri says, low in his ear. “Don’t do that. Don’t hide. I want to hear.”

He does it again, holding tight to Victor’s shoulders to keep him from turning away again, and a high, animal noise is fucked out of Victor’s chest when Yuuri buries himself deep.

Yuuri murmurs something and nods against the side of Victor’s head. “Yeah. Like that.”

Victor throws his head back on the next thrust, and then he shakes a little as he tries to get his arms under him so he an lean on his elbows. Yuuri lifts off of him a little until he struggles up, and then presses a kiss to the back of Victor’s neck and steals his body heat away.

Victor whines a little and turns his head over his shoulder to look at Yuuri. Yuuri is upright behind him now, knees still pressed to the insides of Victor’s. His fingers find Victor’s hipbones and dig into them and haul Victor backwards.

Victor makes an undignified noise and Yuuri smirks.

“That’s good,” he tells Victor. “I like that.”

Victor opens his mouth, but instead of words, a loud moan tumbles out because Yuuri scratches at Victor’s hips and squeezes hard and shoves forward.

“Yuuri,” Victor breathes out. “The next room is going to hear.”

“Yeah?” Yuuri says, low in his throat like a growl. He pauses again, like he’s listening for their room neighbor to move, and then he smirks. “Good.”

Victor’s eyes widen again. Yuuri thrusts into him and a noise is startled out of his throat anyway.

“Maybe they should hear,” Yuuri continues. “Maybe they should hear me having you.”

“Yuuri–”

“Show them.” Yuuri’s hand finds Victor’s hair and tugs backwards. He grips at the base of Victor’s skull so it doesn’t sting too much, but it’s enough to pull Victor’s head up and keep any part of him from being muffled. “Show them what I can do to you.”

His other hand curls around Victor’s hip for leverage, and he slams home again and trips and falls into a rough rhythm. Victor feels like all the wind has been knocked out of him as he arches into it, as much as he can arch into anything. His cock bobs, untouched and ignored, between his thighs, moving with the force of Yuuri driving into him. It aches in a very satisfying way - not the kind of ache that indicates that Yuuri took things too fast, but the kind of ache that tells Victor that he’s going to be feeling this when he skates out to meet Yuuri for the exhibition and someone could know exactly what Yuuri did.

If Yuuri is tired from the free skate, he doesn’t show it. Victor has always admired his stamina, but it’s overwhelming now, because Victor feels a little tired just from _watching_ Yuuri do two quad flips at the end of a program. Victor usually likes to sleep after a skate, but right now, Yuuri doesn't look like he has any intention of slowing down for anything. He lists to the side a little to reach under Victor and then fingers close around Victor's cock and Victor makes a strangled noise that turns into another loud cry when Yuuri pairs it with a sharp thrust into him. Victor feels Yuuri’s thighs shake a little and then hears Yuuri’s soft moan, and it echoes through Victor’s body and amplifies his own.

Someone in the other room bangs against the wall. Victor and Yuuri both freeze, and Victor’s eyes go a little wide. He turns to look at Yuuri again, whose eyes are fixed on the wall like he can see who it was through the drywall. Yuuri stares at the paint, and then he looks down at Victor, and he gives Victor the most self-satisfied look Victor has ever seen on him and squeezes Victor’s cock.

“They know,” he murmurs as he starts jerking Victor off again. “They know it’s you. They know who you’re with.”

Victor gasps as Yuuri’s thumb rubs hard against the head of his cock, then rubs a hand hand along his side.

“Tell them,” Yuuri demands.

“Yuuri,” Victor breathes obediently.

“Louder.”

“Yuuri!”

The word breaks off in the middle because Yuuri is driving into Victor hard enough to know bits of breath from his lungs. What Victor can see of his face is twisted in hot determination. Victor is a quad flip combination that Yuuri is going to carve apart. Victor is art that Yuuri is going to make.

“Yuuri,” Victor wails when Yuuri’s hand returns to his cock.

There’s more banging on the wall.

“Don’t stop,” Yuuri orders.

“Yuuuuuri!”

“Fuck,” Yuuri chokes out, with feeling.

Victor pushes himself up onto his hands and knees to get better leverage and fucks himself backwards. It startles a sharp moan out of Yuuri, who curses again, and then Yuuri is doubled over him again, all but rubbing his face against Victor’s shoulder and neck.

“I thought of you,” he whispers in Victor’s ear. “The quad flip was for you. I wanted you to see it.”

“I know, I know, I–”

“It’s always for you, Victor.” Yuuri kisses sloppily at the mark he’s left on Victor’s shoulder before. “I always skate for you.”

“Yuu– oh–” Victor loses his balance as heat sweeps through his body and lands chest first onto the bed again. Yuuri goes with him and doesn’t bother to get back up. He just ruts sharply into Victor, ripping unbidden noises out of Victor’s throat that grow steadily more and more high pitched as the seconds go on. There’s more banging, rhythmic, and Victor doesn’t know if it’s the neighbors or the bed frame and he could not possibly care less.

“Show them,” Yuuri murmurs in Victor’s ear. “Show _me_.”

“Oh, Yuuri, god, Yuuri– Yuuri!” Victor slams his face into the bed again, but it really doesn’t do much to muffle his cries as he spills all over Yuuri’s fist. Yuuri makes a low, rumbling, possessive noise in Victor’s ear and then wraps both of his arms around Victor’s middle and buries himself inside Victor and hides his face against Victor’s neck. Victor can hear with perfect clarity the sharp staccato breaths that Yuuri is gasping out and the quiet animal sounds that build and die in the back of his throat and the choked, “Victor, oh,  _fuck_ –” when the waves of orgasm rushing through Victor finally settle into a warm, comfortable roll and he relaxes and Yuuri rams their bodies together and goes rigid. Victor tenses around him a little to help and the sound Yuuri makes is loud, almost wounded, and deeply, deeply satisfied. Victor swears he feels Yuuri pulse inside him, but then Yuuri is shaking too hard around him for him to be sure, or to do anything except be still and let Yuuri ride out all the energy that’s been locked in him for the last two days.

After a long moment, Yuuri takes in a shuddering breath and slumps on top of Victor. Victor reaches down with one hand and strokes along Yuuri’s forearm, then carefully rolls them onto their sides, still locked together. Yuuri shudders a little and hides his face against Victor’s shoulder again, breathing almost as hard as he had when he finished his program.

They lie there for a moment as Yuuri catches his breath. He carefully lets go of Victor with one arm so Victor doesn’t have to lie on it and stuffs it under the pillow their heads are resting on. He kisses the dark bruise he’d left on Victor’s shoulder and Victor squirms a little and makes a soft noise.

Then there’s more knocking on the other side of the wall, softer, followed by a voice with a heavy Korean accent. “Are you done now?”

Yuuri freezes.

Victor snorts and starts to laugh.

“Oh god,” Yuuri mumbles into Victor’s shoulder. “Oh my god. Is that Seung-Gil? Oh my _god_.”

“You did say you wanted them all to know,” Victor says, amused. He traces up and down Yuuri’s forearm with his fingertips.

“I’m going to– Should I write an apology letter?” Victor can practically feel the blood rushing upward toward Yuuri’s head. Now that the energy has burnt itself out, the usual Yuuri is left, blushing furiously.

“I think he’ll find it in his heart to forgive you,” Victor says. He eases forward gently, hissing as Yuuri slips out of him, and then rolls over. Yuuri is, in fact, very red, but he doesn’t look quite as remorseful as his embarrassment would usually make him look.

“I don’t know. I did steal his medal,” Yuuri murmurs. Victor scoots forward and pulls Yuuri against him. Yuuri tucks his head against Victor’s neck and hooks his leg between Victor’s. He’s still wearing the condom and it’s still wet from lube, but Victor doesn’t care very much.

“He didn’t steal it. It was always yours to win,” Victor murmurs.

He feels Yuuri’s lips curve against his skin again, but this time it’s soft. Yuuri knows.

**Author's Note:**

> here's the math for the free skate changes:  
> 4T 2T - 10.3+1.3 = 11.6 (+3+0.6)=15.2 with highest GOE  
> (4cc: change to 3Lz 3T - 6.0+4.3 = 10.3(+2.1+2.1) = 14.5 with highest GOE)  
> 3Lz 3T - 6.0+4.3 = 10.3(+2.1+2.1) = 14.5 * 1.1 = 15.95 with highest GOE  
> (4cc: change to 4F 2T - 12.3+1.3=13.6(+0.6+3)=17.2*1.1=18.92 with highest GOE)  
> 4F  
> (4cc: +2 GOE instead of +3)
> 
> pre 4cc: 15.2+15.95 = 31.15  
> 4cc: 14.5+18.92 = 33.42 -1 (final 4F) = 32.42  
> difference: 1.27  
> 4cc total: 222.85
> 
> sorry seung-gil


End file.
